


Cut Open My Sternum(And Pull My Little Ribs Around You)

by journaliar



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: BSG-AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journaliar/pseuds/journaliar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rating: M<br/>Summary: “Why’ve you joined up?”<br/>Disclaimer: I own nothing. True facts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut Open My Sternum(And Pull My Little Ribs Around You)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is written around my other story Time Does Not Change Us (It Just Unfolds Us). So essentially it’s set pre-BSG miniseries.
> 
> A/N2: Per Usual, unbeta'd and all mistakes are mine.

Get a little closer, let fold  
Cut open my sternum, and pull

“You.” Her voice is smooth and low, dropping beneath the loud shouts of the other Viper jockeys and the pained noises coming from the Nuggets. “Why’ve you joined up?”

For a moment you’re distracted by the way her accent bends and curves her words (She‘s from Aquaria, you think.), you’re distracted by how small her booted feet are as she crouches down in front of you (Size 6 maybe.) with a bottle of ambrosia dangling from her fingers but a bucket of water is dumped on your head, only one of many throughout the night, and with the sharp sting of icy water comes focus. 

Helena ‘Metis’ Wells tips her bottle against your lips and you swallow dutifully until she pulls it away to let you sputter and cough at the burn of alcohol. The back of her hand drags across your chin slowly while she watches you with dark, interested eyes, “Why’ve you given yourself over to the colonial fleet?”

Usually, if anyone asks why you joined the service you tell them that you just want to do your part, that you needed a way to pay for university, that you like the structure and rules the military offers. But right now, embroiled in this barbaric hazing ritual with your shoulders and biceps on fire from endless pushups, your throat burning from the alcohol being forced past your lips, completely drenched in cold water and one of the most infamous pilots of recent time staring at you, all you can think about is your family. You’re father who always wanted too much from you and your quiet, unassuming mother who avoided conflict even when there was no other option but to fight, and your sister who unintentionally casts a shadow you can’t seem to escape.

More water is poured over your head and you grunt, clenching your jaw and exhaling through the streams running down your face.

“I matter. Sir.” You bite out, words more ardent than you’ve ever managed to voice before. “I matter too.”

Helena stares at you for a long moment, a frown furrowing her brow before her hand reaches out to cup your face. “Lovely girl. Lovely girl from Caprica.”

She pats your cheek three times, all too hard, before standing.

More water.

***

 

Your flying instructor calls you a natural and it’s the first thing you’ve ever been naturally good at that mattered. You think of your sister who is naturally athletic and naturally beautiful and naturally everything you’re not.

During your graduation ceremony your instructor says the words again but instead of muttering them with approval when you climb out of your simulator, he’s declaring them loudly and his voice booms from the speakers while your insides flutter to the cadence of his speech.

In the audience you can see your sister waving at you and your mother dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief and your father staring and staring and staring while your wings are pinned to your chest.  
***  
“This is kinda lame, right?” Pete Lattimer says, glancing at you as the two of you make your way across the airfield. “I mean, we’re pilots. We’re highly trained military personnel and we get assigned to Battlestar Galactica?! That’s a waste of our respective talents, am I right?”

The thing is, you like Pete. You guys more or less bonded after a particularly harsh hand-to-hand combat training session where the two of you spent an hour beating each other’s ass. Yeah, he eats too much and is a giant child but he’s also a great guy.

“But the Battlestar Galactica is a-a legend. It’s a piece of history.” You point out, adjusting your pack as you two climb into the Raptor. “It’s, like, an honor to be assigned there.”

“Yeah, some honor.” Pete grunts, dropping into his seat and you do the same before pulling your restraints over your shoulder. “We get to spend our time flying around the oldest dinosaur in the colonial fleet.”  
***  
You see Metis again.

You’ve been on Galactica only a few hours when you do.

You’ve got your bag slung over your shoulder and a book in your hand as you wander the corridors with Pete who has finally stopped complaining long enough to take in where the two of you are and what you’re doing here.

“Whoa, look at that.” it’s a group of pilots coming down the passageway in way that reminds you of high school what with the way they‘re taking up too much space and too much focus. You and Pete move to the side a bit to let them pass but you hesitate when you see her near the back of the cluster.

She’s looking at you like she noticed you a while ago and has been waiting to see if you’d notice her too. Recognition hits you swiftly and you know she can see it dawn on your face because she arches an eyebrow as she passes.

She smirks a little too, mouth bending upwards in this completely attractive way and you bite your lip, turning your head to keep eye contact as she passes.

“Mykes, c’mon. I wanna go find something to eat.” Pete says loudly and you nod absently.

“Yeah, okay.” Finally managing to tear your eyes away from Helena and of course, of course, you walk right into something solid and warm and decidedly human. 

“Whoa. Whoa, hey.” Your stuff flies to the ground and wide hands stop you from joining it.

“Gods, I’m so sorry.” You apologize looking up at a guy with low cut hair and an easy smile who towers over you.

“Hey, its okay.” He grins around the lollipop in his mouth before kneeling down to grab your bag and your book. “Just watch where you’re going next time, Poindexter. It gets dangerous around these parts.”

“Helo, stop flirting with the rook and lets go.” Someone yells from the mass of pilots heading down the corridor and Helo rolls his eyes before handing you your book. 

“Hey, lemme know how that ends. Okay?” He grins this charming smile, fingers tapping the cover of your novel and you blush again. You take your stuff and Pete watches you with his face all twisted up. “See you around.” 

“Yeah, sure.” You blurt awkwardly and then he’s gone and you turn to Pete who is gaping at you now.

“Poindexter?” He asks, eyebrows raising towards his hairline.

When the name sticks, you totally blame Pete.

He blames you when the name Garbage Disposal sticks too.

***  
The first CAP you fly is exhilarating…for the first hour. 

But you knew being in a Viper wasn’t all action. You knew a lot of it was patrolling, doing your part, but still… When your squadron leader’s voice crackles over the radio.

“Okay, Rooks, lets see what you can do.”

Adrenaline surges in your veins while your hands tighten on the controls.  
***  
Things settle. You settle, falling into a place that fits like you’ve never experienced before.

***

There’s a book tucked under you pillow in your bunk that you really want to get back to but when Pete wandered into quarters earlier and saw you reading quietly he had insisted that you come to the rec room with him. By insisted, you actually mean he grabbed you by the ankle and pulled …so here you are somehow ensnared in a game of strip Triad with none other than Helena Wells amongst other people.

She’s perched on Jolly’s knee, who’s smiling the smile that you’re nearly positive gave him his callsign, while she splits her time between lazily playing her hand, drinking ambrosia that makes color settle high in her cheeks, methodically winning everyone’s clothing and watching you over the top of her cards.

You’re blushing under her gaze, painfully aware of the heat crawling up your neck and the fact that you’re wearing less clothes than you came in here with. 

“I know you. Green-eyed girl from Caprica.” Helena finally says, her voice weaving through the noise of the rowdy pilots in the room even as you avert your eyes from Pete shimmying out of his pants and accidentally catch her stare. “You’re the one who matters.”

“Poindexter.” You offer with a roll of your eyes, tapping your naked toes on the floor and Helena’s brow quirks even as a teasing smirk shapes her mouth.

“Poindexter?” She laughs and her accent smoothes all of the sharp sounds out of the word and it leaves her lips soft and round. “That’s an unflattering callsign, isn’t it?”

“Hey, stop fraternizing with the enemy.” Pete hisses as he peels off his left sock and tosses it over his shoulder.

“You can call me Myka.” You suggest while completely ignoring Pete, shuffling your cards absently.

“Myka,” She hums. “Your name means child of the Gods.”

“Well, aren’t we all?” You offer and Helena smiles at you, slow and secretive before pulling a hand through her thick hair.

“Some more than others I suppose.” She finally says and you open your mouth to respond but Jolly snakes his arm around Helena, kisses her jaw. 

“All this banter is getting my nipples hard and everything but can we please finish taking these rooks for all they’re worth?” He laughs against her skin and you lick your lips while she stares at you. “Are you guys in or out.”

Pete folds and you glance down at your cards.

“I’m in.”

Pete leans over to get a look at your cards and you press them to your chest and bat him away before picking up your cup.

“I watched you fly today.” Helena says, watching as you take slow swallows of alcohol. “You’re with the 5th squadron, correct? The Prowlers?”

“Yeah.” You nod, pushing your hair out of your face and even the memory of being out there is enough to raise the hair on your arms. “That’s me.”

“You’re talented.” She says, eyes sincere and focused and the back of your neck warms suddenly.

“Thanks.” you laugh, pressing your hand to the hot skin while Jolly rolls his eyes and plays his cards. 

“Three up.” He declares proudly and you smirk, laying out your own hand.

“Prince high red.” You say and Pete jumps out of his seat, picking up his discarded shirt and swinging it over his head.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Rooks making a comeback! Everybody get naked.” He bellows and the other rookies in the room cheer.

“Ah, not so fast Lattimer.” Helena says easily, laying down a hand of full colors and Pete’s jaw drops. “I believe, I win.”

You bite down on a smile when she looks at you with bright eyes and a smug smirk. “Go on then.”

You stand with a groan, ignoring the whistles and catcalls reverberating around the smoky room, and give Helena a pointed look before peeling your tanks over your head. You’re under the influence of just enough alcohol and peer pressure to be a little reckless and you toss your shirt to her easily. She catches it and tucks it against her chest while everyone else hoots and hollers.

“Another hand?” Helena asks when the voices settle, eyes roaming lazily up your torso before meeting yours and you grin, picking up your cup and tipping it against your lips.

“Thanks but I know when to admit defeat.” You laugh, adjusting the strap of your bra for a moment and Helena doesn’t take her eyes off of you.

 

***

“You do know that this area is meant for romantic rendezvous, don’t you?” 

You smile down at your paper while Helena moves closer to where your perched on ridge of the massive window, ignoring the couples a few feet away from you on the observation deck.

“So what’re you doing here alone?” you wonder, glancing up at her and she holds up a small, leather journal guiltily. 

“It would appear much of the same that you are.” She offers, sitting down beside you and you smile at her.

“Oh, you’re also writing a letter to your emotionally neglectful father?” You question and she quirks an eyebrow. 

“More like using my writings as a weapon to prove my father wrong.” HG shrugs and you laugh at that, looking at the journal in her hands.

“And how is that working out for you?” You ask and Helena sighs, flipping the pages of her book absently before dropping the whole thing on the window seat. 

“Better than expected. I‘ve just come here to do a bit of editing.” she finally says before looking at you and you gaze back expectantly, smiling a bit when it seems as though Helena has no intention of doing anything beyond staring. 

“You’re staring.” You offer, setting your letter down also and Helena doesn’t even look away. She only smirks at you and lifts an eyebrow.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” it’s a challenge and you take the bait willingly. 

“Does it make me uncomfortable when beautiful women gaze at me? Not really, no.” You laugh and so does Helena, finally looking away to glance around the preoccupied room before inching closer. “Does it make me uncomfortable when a superior officer is gazing at me? A little.”

“Beautiful?” Helena inclines her head, ignoring the second half of your statement and you know that she’s looking for an ego stroking because there’s no way she doesn’t know she’s attractive. 

“And modest.” You tease and she laughs at that. “ That’s an impressive combination considering you’re Metis, one of the best pilots in the fleet.” 

“One of?” She grunts incredulously, brow bending and you shake your head absently. This woman is going to be bad for you, you just know it. Usually, that would be enough for you to stay away but you’re drawn to her like a magnet.

“You’re interested in me.” You say after a moment and Helena smiles at you slowly, like you‘ve completely figured out her painfully obvious secret.

“Perhaps you’ve peaked my interest.” She admits quietly, leaning into your personal space. “Though, I think I’ve peaked your interest as well.”

You laugh softly at that, blinking down at her hands where they’re lightly brushing yours while warmth seeps into your chest. You hardly know this woman as anything more than an amazing pilot but that fact isn’t enough to stop the stomach swirling sensation she causes in you with just a look.

“What makes you think that?” You question and Helena tips her back a little in amusement. “That you have my interest?”

“Because you’re flirting with me.” Helena points out easily, grinning when you roll your eyes. “And you don’t seem the type to engage when you’re not interested.”

You blush deeply, focusing on the journal at her hip.

“Can I read it?” You ask and Helena licks her lips, mouth flickering up into a smile before she tucks the pen into the spine of the journal. “I mean, you don’t have to but I-I just-I’d like to.”

“Admittedly, it could use a fresh pair of eyes. And rumor has it that you’re quite knowledgeable when it comes to literature. I would love your opinion.”

“Unfortunately, they don’t call me Poindexter for nothing.” She hands her journal over easily, with a confidence that you’re sure alludes to the talent you’ll find scrawled on the pages. 

“A truly complementary callsign I’m sure.” 

“Yeah, just like I’m sure you’re as disgustingly talented as your callsign suggests.” You say, flipping the book over in your hands. Helena does this unbelievably smug laugh that is somehow endearing and you shake your head.

“I thank you but let it be known that my talents extend far beyond writing and piloting.” She brags, dark eyes intense and you blush some more. She stands then, gathering her things and looking down at you while you gaze up at her. “With that said, I have to say goodnight. Give that to me whenever your finished and don’t be shy with the criticism.”

“You just want me to spend all night dreaming of your ominous skills, don‘t you?” You wonder and Helena’s smirks at your words, like she enjoys the way you unravel the web she’s attempting to spin around you.

“Goodnight, Poindexter.”  
***

You go for a run every morning.

You’re surprised when Helena shows up outside of your crew quarters one morning in shorts and tanks, stretching her arms and jogging in place.

“Fancy meeting you here.” She offers and all you can do is laugh while you take off running with Helena hot on your heels.  
***

Quarters on Galactica are tight. Really tight. 

But you think it’s more than coincidence and close quarters when your run-ins with Helena increase exponentially. 

A stomach virus has swept its way through the fleet, taking out a few pilots and you’ve volunteered to cover an extra CAP. Partly because you couldn’t pass up an opportunity to fly more and partly because you couldn’t pass up an opportunity to fly with Helena.

You’re discussing the fuel injection system on your Viper with the Chief when Helena walks in in her jock smock and slick ponytail. 

“Poindexter.” She greets, meandering towards you and you nod at her.

“Sir.” You respond, biting your lip as she gives you and interested smile. You’ve started to associate Helena with gravity and magnetism and pull and she looks at you like she knows that you’re falling, being dragged, being tugged closer.

 

“Everything okay with your bird?” She asks and you glance at the Chief who is frowning at the two of you.

“No. Yeah, everything is okay.” You insists and Helena nods, eyes dark and shining in a way that has you blushing. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go over…there.” The Chief grunts, turning away and running a hand over his head. You both watch him go before turning to face one another.

“Were you waiting to see me off on my CAP?” Helena wonders not a little smugly and you roll your eyes even as your blush deepens. 

“With all due respect, you wish,” You murmur, palming the warmth at the back of your neck and Helena smiles, full and slow, eyes drilling into yours and you swallow thickly . “Sir.”

“It’s probably for the best that you are not privy to the things I wish for, Ensign.” She whispers conspiratorially. “So, if not to fulfill my dreams, what, may I ask, are you doing here? Have you appeared to finally give me your critique of my writing because you sensed I‘ve been waiting on your thoughts with baited breath for days now?”

“I’ve read your journal.” You laugh and she grins when you reach into the gaping opening of your flight suit and pull the worn journal from the hidden breast pocket you‘d tucked it in before heading to the flight deck. 

“So, what did you think?” Her voice is curious and too close. She orbits around you like maybe you have your own gravitational force too. “No need to sugar coat it.”

“It’s great. You…you’re an amazing writer.” You say honestly, handing her back her worn journal that has been dilapidated even further by your hands and your eyes. There is magic on those pages, words spun cunningly together and entire worlds that came from her hands and her mind and that knowledge makes that magnetic, mesmeric pull wrenches at you hard.

It’s familiar feeling, one you’ve been becoming more and more acquainted with as your interactions with Helena have grown more frequently and less inadvertent.

You watch her handle her journal, flexing it between her hands before meeting her even gaze under the buzzing lights of the flight deck. People brush by you were you’re standing just a little to close together in the middle of the busy deck, caught in this moment with Helena who looks caught too.

“Thank you.” She says and you roll your eyes a little, “Really. You’re extensive literary knowledge lends quite a bit of weight to your opinion.”

“In that case, you’re welcome.” You say and Helena only smiles, eyes soft and curious for a moment and you let yourself sink deeper into this moment. “And we’re flying together today. A few of the pilots are under the weather and I volunteered to cover a few of their CAPS.”

“Aces.” Helena murmurs, eyes flaring in a way that makes the back of your neck prickle. “I’ve got a few suspicions about you, you know.”

“Suspicions?” You laugh and Helena just nods, watching you reach up to rub at your neck under the collar of your flight suit. 

“Yes and flying together will confirm a few of my more…enduring speculations.” She shrugs and you’re not even sure what that means but it makes your heart thud a little harder against your rib cage. “Am I right to assume that you volunteered for this duty partially due to my presence?”

“Maybe.” She’s so forward and self-satisfied that it should be sickening but instead you find yourself blushing, glancing around the flight deck and locking eyes with Jolly, who is stalking towards the two of you from across the deck. “And yeah, you’re-you’re friend looks really angry.”

“My friend?” Helena asks just as Jolly appears at her side, shoulder to shoulder and claiming all of her space as his own. 

“You ready to get out there?” He asks Helena but he’s watching you with challenging eyes that make you stand straighter and square your shoulders. “Shouldn’t you be in bed or something, kiddo?”

“Ensign Bering is going up with us and I’m more than a bit curious to witness her rumored talent up close and personal.” Helena says easily enough and you smirk at her, then at Jolly who looks annoyed. “Shall we.”

Helena heads for her bird and you grit your teeth when Jolly slams his shoulder into yours as he brushes by you.

***

You’ve seen tape of Metis flying, you knew about her in the academy just like every other viper jockey but actually flying with her is something else. It’s something hot and addictive in a way that’s probably extremely dangerous.

“Look at you.” Helena murmurs as you wrestle off your helmet, her eyes wandering over your face and you know you look punch drunk and goofy but adrenaline is thick and sparkling in your veins and it has just as much to do with Helena as it does with the rush of flying. “Look at you, you’re fraking glowing.”

“You’re amazing. It‘s ridiculous.” You blurt and if your face wasn’t already flush with exertion then you would be blushing but Helena only looks at you, looks at your mouth and exhales hard. You use your teeth to pull off your gloves, tucking them into your belt.

“As are you, Darling.” She finally says and she shifts forward suddenly, like she can’t control herself, so close its dizzying and now you breathe out carefully. “Gods, I knew it.”

“Knew what?” You wonder, licking your lips as sweat trickles down your spine. You unzip your flight suit and Helena’s eyes follow the zipper’s downward path before flicking back up as you twist out of the sleeves. Your body is trembling, adrenaline and excitement pooling in your shoulder and thighs muscles and you just know Helena can tell. 

“That it would be this way with you.” She laughs, like she can’t believe it herself. You watch as she smoothes a hand over her messy ponytail and she’s radiant in her own right in this moment. “I suspected as much.”

You want to say something. You’re not sure what exactly beyond the fact that it will be too dumb and too earnest but you lick your lips to ease the path anyway. “I…”

Words are jarred from the tip of your tongue when Jolly slams into your shoulder from behind, glancing at you over his own shoulder as he makes his way off the flight deck. Helena’s eyes cut to him and you press your lips shut to keep those stupid words where they belong.

***  
You get hit hard by the tail end of the stomach virus going around. Pete finds you vomiting in the head, waiting for death to take you, and hauls you to Doc Cottle’s office where you’re immediately quarantined with the other ill people.

You’re given medication, lots of water to stay hydrated and the assurance that the virus will run its course in a few days before you’re left on your tiny cot, separated from the other sick people by a white curtain. There are bright, vivid fever dreams about your family’s bookstore and about Sam and about flying and about falling.

When Helena appears beside your bed you think its another dream. 

“Oh, darling.” She sighs, more real than any hallucination as she kneels at your bed side after your fingers brush against hers in a clumsy attempt to determine if she was actual or not. “Rumors of your downfall have not been exaggerated.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m dying.” you say, blinking up at her and a damp cloth appears in her hands.

“I don’t think that’s quite the case.” she says softly, pressing her hand to your forehead and wincing slightly.

“You’ll get sick.” You croak, closing your eyes as she presses a wet towel against your neck. You swallow thickly as goosebumps erupt across your skin and you’re not sure if it’s the cold cloth against your overheated skin or Helena’s attention that cause them. “You’re too close.”

“Nonsense.” Helena murmurs, folding the towel and setting it over your forehead, keeping it in place with her palm. “Haven’t you heard? I’m invincible.”

You laugh, then groan at the nausea the action conjures and Helena sighs sympathetically. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Pete was kind enough to inform me that you had fallen ill when I asked about your whereabouts.” She murmurs, sitting on her heels at the side of your cot, radiating heat but you edge closer while she plays with the spiraled ends of your hair.

“Why were you looking for me?” You ask, squeezing your eyes shut as nausea swells suddenly and the room begins to spin just a little.

“No real reason, I suppose.” She murmurs, fingers migrating from the ends of your hair to the skin of your shoulders, pale from lack of sun. “Often times, I have an unexplainable, completely purposeless urge to be in your presence.”

You grin at that, shivering when the pads of her fingers trace the place where your shoulder curves into your neck. “The feeling is mutual.” 

You open your eyes to meet her stare and she brushes her thumb against your chin a absently. “You’re burning up.”

She cups your flushed cheek and you open your eyes. “Your boyfriend hates me.”

Helena laughs quietly at that, “I am not currently in possession of a boyfriend but if you’re referring to Jolly then you would be correct. Rest assured that he and I are nothing more than friends, though with an admittedly beneficial slant.”

“Frak buddies.” You say, blinking tiredly and Helena just laughs again. “Frak buddies.”

“He feels threatened by you.” Helena murmurs, hand sliding away from your cheek to adjust the damp towel at your brow again. “Your mind. Your skill. The way you’ve caught my attention.”

“I have your attention?” You whisper, closing your eyes while everything wobbles and shifts like its not supposed to. 

“You most certainly do.” She says and you grin tiredly. “You do.”

“You’re good at this. Taking care of me.” you point out, licking your dry lips.

“Well, I had a bit of practice.” She whispers softly and you look up at her again. Her mouth is tight and her eyes are far away as she speaks. “I-I had a daughter. Christina. She was a sickly infant but she grew up to be a strong, smart child. She was taken from me, though, a few years back.”

You reach up to hold her hand, lacing your fingers with hers.

***

You read over your father’s neat handwriting, absorbing the carefully scrawled ‘I miss you’ and ‘I’m proud of you’ and ‘I love you‘ before folding the letter carefully and tucking it into the back of your locker.

***

“I almost feel badly,” Helena murmurs, words reaching you through the smoke thickened atmosphere of the rec room. “Doing this to someone as pure and lovely as you.”

She sets her cards down on the table between the two of you, smirking smugly and the people around you hoot and holler. 

“I don’t think I’m as pure as you think.” you laugh, setting full colors down on the table and Helena gives you an impressed smirk. The crowd roars again and you arch an eyebrow as Helena stands slowly.

“Oh, I hope not.” She says even as she pulls her shirt over her head. 

***

 

It’s only a matter of time. 

A powerful reaction in wait that just requires a catalyst, only one opportunity, to combust.

That catalyst comes in the form of a friendly dogfight competition that is meant to boost fleet moral. The pilots take it seriously, wagers are made and Pete calls you a dark horse before betting nearly all of his cubits on you. 

You easily take out your opponents until, of course, its just you and Helena left circling one another in the dark, weightlessness of space. 

In the end, you come out on top, much to nearly everyone’s surprise. Everyone except for Pete who’s pockets are full of cubits and Helena who watches amused and impressed as Admiral Adama presents you with a worn, nicked, legendary medallion. 

She sidles up to you amidst laudatory slaps to your shoulders and murmurs of congratulations from passersby headed to the rec room for drinks and festivities, too close and too warm and the residual buzz of adrenaline in your muscles intensifies when her arm brushes yours.

“I believe congratulations are in order.” She says softly, words bending in obvious invitation and your insides jump appreciatively.

“I think so.”

“well by all means, claim your prize.”  
***

Helena groans obscenely when you push her down flat against the mattress, drawing her hands to lie submissively near her ears and smiling at you in this sharp, predatory way that makes even more heat settle heavily low in your stomach. You shift up her body carefully until your knees are planted above her shoulders and your weight is on your heels to avoid putting it on her chest while you hunch over her because now would be the worse time to bash your head open on the top of your bunk.

“Do you want me?” You demand quietly, your mouth dry and your heart pounding while Helena turns her head to press a kiss to your naked knee. 

“More than anything.” She murmurs against your skin before gazing up at you with dark, eager, heavy lidded eyes. You swear, shifting forward towards the heat of her mouth while Helena smoothes her hands over your thighs, then up around your ribs. She can feel your heart pounding against her fingertips, you just know it.

You take a steadying breath, reaching for a pillow and sliding it under Helena’s head because the angle is a little awkward and she smiles at you, soft and affectionate suddenly and you smile back. Her hands drop to your hips, pulling you towards the heat of her mouth and you close your eyes at the searing temperature of her tongue. 

Right now there are people going about their lives on the other side of the drape surrounding your bunk while you and Helena do this. Honestly, it’s a little unnerving because people saw Helena go in here with you and sex sounds are nothing if not distinct but its hard to focus on that when your hips are rolling unsteadily against her mouth and Helena is following the action with a muffled moan.

Her mouth is greedy between your thighs and you grip at her hair to keep yourself grounded while all of your muscles coil with hot energy and agonizing strain. 

It wont last long. You wont last long because how could you? With Helena devouring you with her impatient mouth and her dark eyes and her grasping hands. When you warn her in a quiet, tight, breath with your eyes locked on hers, she hums encouragingly right against your flesh and you can’t help the way your eyes roll shut and your head drops back at the sensation.

You cry out breathlessly when the nearly unbearable tension finally breaks moments later and Helena makes a sympathetic sound as your entire body goes rigid with pleasure. Its so much sensation, too many synopsis firing off at once, and it feels like forever before your body finally slumps forward.

You topple forward, barely catching yourself on your hands while Helena presses sticky, wandering kisses along your shaking thighs before shifting away completely. Then she’s behind you, trailing her mouth from your tailbone up your curved spine, laughing quietly while you try to find your way out of the haze she’s left behind.

“Gods, I can’t…” You swallow thickly as she nuzzles the sweaty ringlets of your hair even as her hands drift around your waist, between your legs again and you shudder and reach for her wrist. “Helena.”

“I’ll never get enough of you.” Helena whispers against your ear, fingers pushing inside of you slowly and she draws shuddering sounds from your chest while your hips stumble to catch her rhythm. “I just know it.”

Her free hand curls around the sweaty nape of your neck and pushes until your forehead is against the mattress and with the sharp shift of control and her fingers working inside of you, all you can do is groan out your orgasm against the sheets.

***

“Mykes, let him go.” Pete murmurs into your ear even as your arm tightens under Jolly’s jaw and blood trickles into your eye, down the slope of your nose. Fingers claw at your sweat slicked forearm and you can hear Jolly struggling for breath but you don‘t stop. “It’s not worth it.”

Except it feels like it is worth it.

“Myka, c’mon.” Pete urges, softer this time, and suddenly your arms are letting go and Jolly is folding over, coughing and gasping on the cushioned floor. You scramble to your feet and nearly crash into a rack of weights when the room tips and spins but Pete steadies you with a hand on your shoulder. 

The room is silent now except for your own heavy breathing and Jolly’s sputtering while everyone else in the weight room looks on in awe. There’s blood in your mouth, spilling down your chin and onto your shirt while the cut above your eye bleeds just as freely.

He caught you off guard. One moment you were spotting Pete on the bench press and the next Jolly is trying to take your head off with only his fists. You managed to block some of his hits but more than a few landed before you could tackle him to the ground and get your arm around his throat.

Jolly straightens slowly and you watch Pete swell with anger, shoving Jolly into the rack of weights. “What the Frak is your problem?”

“She knows what my problem is!” Jolly yells, holding himself up against the weights and Pete’s hand flexes into a fist.

“What, in the name of the Gods, is going on here?” Helena’s voice booms suddenly and you turn to face her with lowered eyes and a clenched jaw. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

“Nothing.” You hear Jolly say and you glance up to see Helena scanning over your face then Jolly quietly.

“I see.” Helena mutters after a moment, eyes hot and hard. “Ensign Lattimer, please escort Ensign Bering to the infirmary.”

Pete nods, grabbing you by your upper arm and guiding you out into the corridor. You use the bottom of your shirt to dab at your bloody mouth and Pete frowns at you.

“Do you wanna tell me what that was all about?” He asks and you laugh weakly.

“I slept with Metis.” You sigh and Pete stops in his tracks, pulling you to a halt too.

“What?!” he cries and you nod, dropping the hem of your shirt and turning to face him.

“Yeah.” Is all you say and Pete laughs, loud and bright, before pulling you into his side and pressing his lips against your head and steering you towards the infirmary again.

“Thata girl.”

***  
“What do you think it means?” Helena asks quietly, settling beside you in your narrow bunk. The privacy curtain is drawn all the way and you pull the icepack from your eye to see her better in the light above your bed. You‘re arms ache just a bit at your shoulder and elbow and the ice makes your skin damp and cold while you gaze up Helena, eyes beautiful and bottomless. “What do you think it means that I care for you so much in such a short amount of time.”

She takes your ice from you, setting it aside and you smile at her, feel the movement pull through the bruise blossoming around your eye. She props herself up on one elbow, peering down at you and you shrug and try not to get distracted by the smooth line of her throat. “I‘m important to you.”

“You told me once that you mattered.” She sighs, smiling just a bit. “I had no idea at the time that this lovely girl from Caprica would be so correct.”

“I knew…” You admit, swallowing and meeting her interested gaze. “I knew just from watching you fly that you would be important to me.”

Helena laughs, soft and quiet and beautiful before leaning down to kiss you and when your lips touch, you revel in the electricity wrapping around your bones.

 

My little ribs around you  
The rungs of me be under, under you


End file.
